Jack grinned and jumped to the left of the goal. The ball easily rolled into the right hand corner. The young boy cheered with delight and did a victory lap around the garden.
"Direct hit!" Yelled Jack. "And the crowd goes wild as Jake O’Neill wins the All America Football Final!"
Jack watched his young son. He was so full of life, so carefree, so in love with the world. Through his eyes, nothing was bad. Not that he could see much with the floppy blond hair. They had named him after his grandfather, and called him Jake for short. Daniel had rooted out some old pictures, and he did indeed look slightly like him, chocolate eyes and all. Though Jack preferred to claim them as his.
After the third lap Jake made a detour and came crashing down on Jack. He groaned and rolled over, knocking the giggling four-year-old onto the ground. After a few minutes of mock wrestling, Jack feigned defeat and proclaimed Jake hero of the moment.
A knocking at the garden gate attracted both their attention, and Jake ran over to open it under the watchful eye of his father. It was their young neighbour, Jill. She was only a few months younger than Jake, but the two of them got along like a house on fire. When she was in, he closed the gate and politely admired her new pram. Pleased with its success, Jill carried on up the driveway, intend on introducing her doll to the dog, who didn’t seem to mind in the least.
Jack gave one last look to them before walking up the steps into the house. He nodded to Jacob – who was sitting on the porch – before continuing into the hall. He could smell something baking, and immediately turned on stealth mode. There was no other way to steal food in this house.
He crept silently into the kitchen where his wife was discussing something with her friend. There were no baking trays in sight, but the oven was on. Well, that plan would have to wait, but he might as well put his advantage to good use. He sneaked up behind her and grabbed her around the waist planting a kiss on her neck. She shrieked, then started to laugh when she realised who it was.
Janet stuck her finger in the cookie mixture and grinned cheekily as she licked it off. Jack smiled and returned his attention to his wife.
"Wotcha makin’?"
"Cookies."
He let her go and she turned to face him.
"I thought you said you were never gonna make them again?"
"Well, Janet persuaded me."
Janet nodded vigorously.
"She makes good everything else - even though she doesn’t admit it. Why *didn’t* you want to make them anyway, Sam?"
Sam stopped smiling and looked at the ground. Jack glared at Janet, who didn’t get the message and pursued the issue.
"Come on Sam! They couldn’t have been *that* bad!"
"It wasn’t that." Said Sam quietly.
"It’s okay, Sam, drop it." Said Jack, sitting on the table.
"No, I can tell her." She paused for a minute to look at Janet’s confused face.
"The last time I made cookies was years ago. Just as I was taking them out of the oven, my dad came in and told me … He told me Mom was dead. A car accident. A direct hit. She'd never have survived."
Janet stared at her for a moment, then offered an apologetic look. She didn’t dare look at Jack.
Wanting to change the subject, Sam started clearing up the dishes.
"So, what’s Jake doing?" She asked as she filled the sink.
"Oh, he just won the final, then the wrestling match. He’s introducing Jill’s doll to Charlie. She’s showing Jacob her new pram. Jacob’s reading 'USA Today'… Anything else?"
Sam smiled and continued washing.
"He’s showing the doll to the dog? He won’t eat it, will he?"
"Charlie? Nah…" Jack looked up unsurely, but only Janet saw him, and she didn’t feel like getting on his bad side at the moment.
*
"Buzzer!" yelled Jack from the kitchen. Sam and Janet came running in.
"First time in ages. Let’s hope they’re alright." Sam looked at Janet and crossed her fingers.
Suddenly, she frowned and looked at Jack. He turned around from the cartoon he had been reading and looked at her with the same expression. Janet grinned.
"You two have always had that silent communication thing going!"
Sam looked at her for a second, then turned back to Jack.
"What?" He asked.
"I don’t know… I just… I got this bad feeling all of a sudden…"
She paused for a second and looked out the door. She could see Jill wheeling her pram to and fro in front of the porch, chatting to Jacob. She watched as Jake jumped off the swing, ran through the sprinkler, and picked up his ball at the end of the garden. She could see him wave it over his head to the applause of an imaginary crowd. Then he placed it on the ground under his foot and waved to his adoring fans.
"Sam? Cookies?" Janet reminded her.
"Oh yeah!" She pulled on the cooking gloves and reached into the oven.
Jake placed his hands on his hips and smiled at the cameras.
Jack shoved his chair back and got up from the table.
Sam took out the tray and looked back out the door.
Jake puffed his chest out proudly.
Jack pulled the door wide open.
The screeching of tearing metal, snapping wood and shattering glass resounded across the quiet neighbourhood. The cookies fell to the floor unnoticed. Everything went in slow motion. The flowerbed was torn to ribbons. The fence was smashed to pieces. A battered blue car lay upturned on the lawn.
Jake.
Where was Jake.
Jack started to run. He could feel his heart pumping inside his chest. He could hear Sam kick the cookie tray as she followed, but he didn’t care. This couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t.
He ran past Jacob, now standing in shock. A terrified Jill was screaming her lungs out in the drive. Sam still followed. In the back of his mind, he registered someone crawling out of the vehicle, but as he jumped the twisted, useless slide, all other thoughts were forgotten.
A small, yellow, blood stained tee shirt lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. He dropped to his knees and willed his hands to feel a pulse.
Nothing.
No. This couldn’t happen again. It *couldn’t*. *Couldn’t*!
He tried again, but to no avail.
The backs of his eyes were stinging. Tears were coursing down his face. His heart felt like it was being twisted and torn a million different ways.
He picked the child up in his arms. His son. His baby.
He cried in agony as the reality of what had happened hit him at terminal velocity in the face. He gathered the boy to his chest and fell to his knees, weeping.
Sam stared at the scene of destruction. She saw Jack fall to his knees. She saw him cradle the child. She saw him moan as he rocked their son in his arms on the bloody soil. She felt her heart being wrenched from her chest by invisible hands. She dropped to her knees beside her husband.
Janet left Jacob trying to console Jill and walked unsteadily to the end of the garden. She stepped around the mangled slide Jake had so proudly shown her on his third birthday. She walked past Sams carefully tended flowerbeds, past Jacks painstakingly erected fences. She watched as Sam reached out to touch the lifeless body of the child that she had given birth to four years ago. She saw mother and father look to one another before Jack pulled Sam into his arms, swaying her gently. She put her arms around his shoulders and sobbed into his neck, clinging to him desperately. For what seemed like an eternity they stayed like that, as an eerie silence descended on vicinity.
*
Crowds of hushed people stood in the dark rooms and hallways of the cold house. Nobody felt like talking, even if they had something to talk about. The living room had been designated as the coffin room, and the end of a long queue trailed out the door.
After the initial shock, Jack had nearly lost it. He lashed out at the already injured driver, almost like a mad man. Janet remembered similar behaviour the time he caught the virus that turned half the people she worked with into primitives. He had tried to kill Daniel for *talking* about Sam. This man had *murdered* his son. She shuddered to think of what *he* must feel like, knowing there was someone like that out there that would do anything to see you dead too.
If it hadn’t been for Sam, he probably would have killed him, and himself in the process. Sam had grabbed his arm, and received a few blows herself as she did. She eventually got Jack to face her, and boy was that one face you wouldn’t have liked to see in a dark alleyway late at night. He pulled his arms away and shoved her onto the ground, then went after the driver again. She got up and ran over to him, turning him to her again. She held his arms against his side, then cupped his face with her hands. At first, it looked as if he was going to knock her again, but instead, he fell into her arms crying. She bit her lip and hugged him to her. Soon after that, the police arrived.
Daniel watched the last of the mourners leave the room, shutting the door behind them. Unnoticed in the corner, he observed Sam and Jack stand, hand in hand, and walk to the coffin. He saw Sam gently trace the features on the pale little face. He saw Jack softly brush back the light wisps of golden hair from the once dancing brown eyes. He opened the door quietly and let himself out.
"Why me?… Why always me?…" Jack asked softly. Sam raised her tear stained face to look at him. He had gotten paler in the last few days. There were black rings under his dull eyes. His hair was lying flat on his head, almost an impossibility in his case. In her own grief, she had almost forgotten what it must be like for him.
"Not just you." She answered quietly. He looked up at her. Tears now flowed constantly from her eyes. She hadn’t eaten anything since it happened, but she threw the cookies, the tray and the recipes into the fire. He had caught her staring, almost hypnotised into it. A few sparks had started smouldering on the carpet and smoke was beginning to fill the room. In his own grief, he had almost forgotten what it must be like for her.
He walked around the coffin and pulled her into his arms. This time, neither of them broke down, but the tears kept flowing. They looked at the small white coffin for a while longer, before Jack finally covered their son up for the last time.
He sighed and turned for Sam. She looked back at him with huge watery eyes.
"Jack?"
He turned fully around.
"What?"
She raised a hand with a tightly clenched tissue to her heart. There were a few moments of silence before she took in a ragged breath.
"Don’t leave me."
Vague images of another tragedy crossed his mind briefly, as he realised what she was talking about. Another time when living had seemed pointless. Another time when he thought he couldn’t handle it. But neither could *she*. *She* hadn’t been able for his irrational behaviour, his solitary depression.
But this time would be different.
Sam understood him. Sam knew more about him than he did himself. She’d help him through…and he’d let her.
Within seconds he had crossed the floor, his face mere inches from hers. His thumb wiped at the slowing tears until they ceased. One of her small hands found his larger one. As all that needed to be said was conveyed without words, a ghost of a smile flickered across her face, its mirror image on his.
They *would* get through this… side by side.
*
"The crash happened in the suburbs of the city at three o’clock this afternoon. Police have confirmed that the driver of the vehicle was under the influence of alcohol. He has been given a three year jail sentence in the state prison."
From the comfort of Jacks arms, on their own sofa, Sam watched pictures of her ruined garden flash by on the television screen. Only now, six months later, was she finally able to look at the news report of Jake’s death.
They would never forget the sunny afternoon they buried him. Birds sang in the trees, flowers decorated the path along which they carried his little coffin, children’s laughs could be heard in nearby gardens. He would have loved a day like that.
"There were numerous witnesses at the scene, all relatives and friends of the victim – a four year old boy."
The reporter paused, his face glum.
"The car came crashing through the fence on top of him. There was no chance of survival. It was a direct hit."
Sam felt a tear trickle down her face.
~fin~
Story Notes: E-MAIL: dittomaster21@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: SJ, Future, Death
SPOILERS: The Broca Divide, Stargate (film), Cold Lazarus
SEASONSEQUEL: None
CONTENT WARNINGS: Um… kinda very sad? Blood – not *too* much
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: SJA and Heliopolis. Any others…the usual. (That’s ‘please ask’ in case ya don’t know…).
FEEDBACK: Love it. Please.
AUTHORS NOTES: Everyone hates that drink-driving ad (talking to Irish and Brits here…), me included. It’s… well, the fic explains it. I made up most of it, but the part in the garden from when Sam’s looking out the door to where Jack kneels down is ‘real’. Did I hear that some people were petitioning to get it taken off somewhere as well? But anyway, it’s so sad, I thought a fic based around it would make for some good reading, so here it is. And I *am* aware of the fact that we have Jack, Jake, Jacob, Jill and Janet in this story, but there you go.
CATEGORY: SJ, Future, Death
SPOILERS: The Broca Divide, Stargate (film), Cold Lazarus
SEASONSEQUEL: None
CONTENT WARNINGS: Um… kinda very sad? Blood – not *too* much
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: SJA and Heliopolis. Any others…the usual. (That’s ‘please ask’ in case ya don’t know…).
FEEDBACK: Love it. Please.
AUTHORS NOTES: Everyone hates that drink-driving ad (talking to Irish and Brits here…), me included. It’s… well, the fic explains it. I made up most of it, but the part in the garden from when Sam’s looking out the door to where Jack kneels down is ‘real’. Did I hear that some people were petitioning to get it taken off somewhere as well? But anyway, it’s so sad, I thought a fic based around it would make for some good reading, so here it is. And I *am* aware of the fact that we have Jack, Jake, Jacob, Jill and Janet in this story, but there you go.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]